Read Online Call If You Need Me by Raymond Carver - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Raymond Carver
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you over for dinner for a long time,” I said. “Will you come some night? Could you come tonight, if you’re free?”
“I guess I could do that. Yes. But I don’t even know your name. Or your wife’s.”
I told her and then I said, “Is six o’clock a good time?”
“When? Oh, yes. Six o’clock is fine.” She put her hand on the spade and pushed down. “I’ll just go ahead and plant these seeds. I’ll come over at six. Thank you.”
I went back into the house to tell Dotty about dinner. I took down the plates and got out the silverware. The next time I looked out, Mary Rice had gone in from her garden.
Vandals
Carol and Robert Norris were old friends of Nick’s wife, Joanne. They’d known her for years, long before Nick met her. They’d known her since back when she’d been married to Bill Daly. In those days, the four of them—Carol and Robert, Joanne and Bill—were newlyweds and graduate students in the university art department. They lived in the same house, a big house on Seattle’s Capitol Hill, where they shared the rent, and a bathroom. They took many of their meals together and sat up late talking and drinking wine. They handed the work they’d done around to each other for criticism and inspection. They even, in the last year they shared the house together—before Nick appeared on the scene—bought an inexpensive little sailboat together that they used during the summer months on Lake Washington. “Good times and bad, high times and low,” Robert said, for the second time that morning, laughing and looking around the table at the faces of the others.
It was Sunday morning, and they were sitting around the table in Nick and Joanne’s kitchen in Aberdeen, eating smoked salmon, scrambled eggs, and cream cheese on bagels. It was salmon that Nick had caught the summer before and then had arranged to have vacuum packed. He’d put the salmon in the freezer. He liked it that Joanne told Carol and Robert that he’d caught the fish himself. She even knew—or claimed to know—how much the fish had weighed. “This one weighed sixteen pounds,” she said, and Nick laughed, pleased. Nick had taken the fish out of the freezer the night before, after Carol had called and talked to Joanne and said she and Robert and theirdaughter, Jenny, would like to stop on their way through town.
“Can we be excused now?” Jenny said. “We want to go skateboarding.”
“The skateboards are in the car,” Jenny’s friend, Megan, said.
“Take your plates over to the sink,” Robert said. “And then you can go skateboarding, I guess. But don’t go far. Stay in the neighborhood,” he said. “And be careful.”
“Is it all right?” Carol said.
“Sure it is,” Joanne said. “It’s fine. I wish
I
had a skateboard. If I did, I’d join them.”
“But mostly good times,” Robert said, going on with what he’d been saying about their student days. “Right?” he said, catching Joanne’s eye and grinning.
Joanne nodded.
“Those were the days, all right,” Carol said.
Nick had the feeling that Joanne wanted to ask them something about Bill Daly. But she didn’t. She smiled, held the smile a moment too long, and then asked if anybody would like more coffee.
“I’ll have some more, thanks,” Robert said. Carol said “Nope” and put the palm of her hand over her cup. Nick shook his head.
“So tell me about salmon fishing,” Robert said to Nick.
“Nothing much to tell,” Nick said. “You get up early and you go out on the water, and if the wind isn’t blowing and it doesn’t rain on you, and the fish are in and you’re rigged up properly, you might get a strike. The odds are that, if you’re lucky, you’ll land one out of every four fish that hit. Some men devote their lives to it, I guess. I fish some in the summer months, and that’s it.”
“Do you fish out of a boat or what?” Robert said. He said this as if it was an afterthought. He wasn’t really interested, Nick
“I guess I could do that. Yes. But I don’t even know your name. Or your wife’s.”
I told her and then I said, “Is six o’clock a good time?”
“When? Oh, yes. Six o’clock is fine.” She put her hand on the spade and pushed down. “I’ll just go ahead and plant these seeds. I’ll come over at six. Thank you.”
I went back into the house to tell Dotty about dinner. I took down the plates and got out the silverware. The next time I looked out, Mary Rice had gone in from her garden.
Vandals
Carol and Robert Norris were old friends of Nick’s wife, Joanne. They’d known her for years, long before Nick met her. They’d known her since back when she’d been married to Bill Daly. In those days, the four of them—Carol and Robert, Joanne and Bill—were newlyweds and graduate students in the university art department. They lived in the same house, a big house on Seattle’s Capitol Hill, where they shared the rent, and a bathroom. They took many of their meals together and sat up late talking and drinking wine. They handed the work they’d done around to each other for criticism and inspection. They even, in the last year they shared the house together—before Nick appeared on the scene—bought an inexpensive little sailboat together that they used during the summer months on Lake Washington. “Good times and bad, high times and low,” Robert said, for the second time that morning, laughing and looking around the table at the faces of the others.
It was Sunday morning, and they were sitting around the table in Nick and Joanne’s kitchen in Aberdeen, eating smoked salmon, scrambled eggs, and cream cheese on bagels. It was salmon that Nick had caught the summer before and then had arranged to have vacuum packed. He’d put the salmon in the freezer. He liked it that Joanne told Carol and Robert that he’d caught the fish himself. She even knew—or claimed to know—how much the fish had weighed. “This one weighed sixteen pounds,” she said, and Nick laughed, pleased. Nick had taken the fish out of the freezer the night before, after Carol had called and talked to Joanne and said she and Robert and theirdaughter, Jenny, would like to stop on their way through town.
“Can we be excused now?” Jenny said. “We want to go skateboarding.”
“The skateboards are in the car,” Jenny’s friend, Megan, said.
“Take your plates over to the sink,” Robert said. “And then you can go skateboarding, I guess. But don’t go far. Stay in the neighborhood,” he said. “And be careful.”
“Is it all right?” Carol said.
“Sure it is,” Joanne said. “It’s fine. I wish
I
had a skateboard. If I did, I’d join them.”
“But mostly good times,” Robert said, going on with what he’d been saying about their student days. “Right?” he said, catching Joanne’s eye and grinning.
Joanne nodded.
“Those were the days, all right,” Carol said.
Nick had the feeling that Joanne wanted to ask them something about Bill Daly. But she didn’t. She smiled, held the smile a moment too long, and then asked if anybody would like more coffee.
“I’ll have some more, thanks,” Robert said. Carol said “Nope” and put the palm of her hand over her cup. Nick shook his head.
“So tell me about salmon fishing,” Robert said to Nick.
“Nothing much to tell,” Nick said. “You get up early and you go out on the water, and if the wind isn’t blowing and it doesn’t rain on you, and the fish are in and you’re rigged up properly, you might get a strike. The odds are that, if you’re lucky, you’ll land one out of every four fish that hit. Some men devote their lives to it, I guess. I fish some in the summer months, and that’s it.”
“Do you fish out of a boat or what?” Robert said. He said this as if it was an afterthought. He wasn’t really interested, Nick
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